


Star Trek: The MUSICAL!

by starwhale97, tbmd1066



Series: Hot Potato Prompts [18]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Broadway, Crack, M/M, Puberty, Singing, violence?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwhale97/pseuds/starwhale97, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbmd1066/pseuds/tbmd1066
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of the Enterprise is shocked when their transporter beams them down, not on an alien planet, but onto the set of Star Trek: The Musical!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Trek: The MUSICAL!

The bridge crew of the USS Enterprise looked around in confusion, the planet they had beamed down onto was not at all what they had expected. They still seemed to stand on their transport pad, but they looked out at a broad audience of chairs.

"CUT!" Someone shouted in anger. "GUYS, COME ON!" The crew's eyes fell upon an angry-looking man. "What happened?"

Kirk cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what you're-"

"Not you!" the man glared at Kirk. "YOU! In the orchestra pit! Where are my flutes?"

"Captain," said Spock, "We appear to be in a theatre." 

"Yes, indeed." Kirk nodded. 

"TAKE FIVE!" the director shouted. The crew of the Enterprise stepped off the fake transporter pad and gathered in the wings.

"What do you think is going on, Jim?" McCoy asked. "That set piece looked just like a transporter pad!"

As the captain stepped towards it, they heard a shuffling sound coming from behind one of the set pieces.  Spock tensed up and raised his phaser.

"Wait," Said Kirk, holding out his arm.  "Who's there?" 

A man rose up slowly until he stood upright, staring at them with his cold, chocolatey eyes.  He gave a harsh open-mouth smile, revealing two razor sharp fangs.

"It's a vampire!" McCoy screeched.  

Uhura grabbed a nearby broom and held it like a spear, ready to launch at any second.

"Wait a second," Sulu said.  "That guy looks just like Count Chocula.  You remember? The cereal mascot?"

Chekov looked puzzled, and then his face lit up.  "Ah, you mean Tsar шоколад! That cereal was inwented in Russia.  I was raised on it!"

The crew groaned collectively and returned their attention to the vampire.

"It's true.  I am Count Chocula.  Or rather, the man who modelled for the image of Count Chocula originally.  Sadly, they no longer need me and I am unemployed.  I tried to get a job on this Star Trek broadway show in the role of Kirk, but they didn't like me.  I didn't even make the call back." He spoke with a Michigan accent, but occasionally threw in something that sounded vaguely Transylvanian.

Kirk looked rather surprised.  "Wait a minute, are you saying that this is all-"

"Anyway," The Count interrupted.  "You're probably wondering why I'm here.  Well, let me tell you!"

He pulled a sword out that was hidden beneath his cape.  "I am here to challenge you to a duel! The winner will walk away as Captain James Tiberius Kirk, and the loser will be shamed in front of the entire crew!"

Kirk shrugged and reached for his phaser.

"Yeah, fight!" they heard someone shout. Kirk and his opponent looked up to see--

BARACK OBAMA!!!!!!

"Oh, I apologise." The president said.

"Captain, that is the first African American president, Barack Obama." Spock informed Kirk, suddenly at his ear.

"Uuh, Mr. President." Kirk lowered his phaser.

"I came to view the rehearsal, but please, don't stop on my behalf." Obama said. 

"No, we weren't... rehearsing." Kirk shook his head. "We were ah, ah... Spock, what were we doing?"

Spock suddenly remembered an excuse he had heard on human TV once.  He was unsure what it meant exactly, but it sounded like a viable excuse, and it was the only thing he could think of.

"I believe Kirk and I have become 'friends with benefits'." He said simply.

Kirk's jaw dropped.  "S-Spock, what are you saying? Of course we aren't..."

Spock looked at him sternly.  "Are you saying there are no benefits to our friendship?" 

"Of course there are, but I don't think you know what that means..."

Uhura came running up to them.  "There's a man here in a business suit and he is ANGRY.  He said we have to be ready to go on stage in ten minutes or else we are all in really big trouble.  I knocked him out to be safe, but I think we should do what he said."

Kirk crossed his arms and looked at her quizzically.  "Did he say anything else?"

"Something about how people pay good money to see a musical on this level and how they should have hired more qualified actors.  He also mentioned that there is some sort of special guest coming tonight, though he did not make any indication as to who this person is." Uhura was quite exasperated.

"Perhaps he may have meant President Obama." Chekov suggested. 

"Yes, perhaps." Kirk laughed. "But still, it's very strange. Almost as strange as... hm..." Kirk searched for the word. "McCoy, what's something really strange?"

"Puberty?"

"Yes, exactly. We must get back to the Enterprise and return the actors to the theatre."

"Kirk!" McCoy shouted. "You're not thinking that there's a bunch of musical theatre actors running around trying to fly the Enterprise!"

"We've pulled off more ridiculous shit in the past." He reasoned.

"Back in Russia, I used to sing all sorts of Russian songs." Chekov said with a nostalgic look in his eyes.  Sulu sighed with admiration.

Uhura looked really excited.  "This is going to be so much fun!"

Scotty smiled.  "I do love when you sing, Lieutenant.  Captain, I feel like now is a good time to point out there has been a man standing outside of that door for quite some time now."

Kirk spun around and looked through the window of one of the stage doors.  There was a short, stubby man with a monkey on his shoulder.  The monkey was smoking a cigar, and they both seemed to have their eyes fixed on Kirk.

He pushed the door open.  "Hey! There's no smoking allowed in here!" He yelled.

The man looked sad as he removed the cigar and put it out.  "We just wanted to tell you that we are both big fans of yours, Marcel and I."  

"Okay that's nice." Kirk shut the door.

"Ok folks, the show is about to begin! Places!" The director called.  

"What are we supposed to do?" McCoy asked in a panic.  Everyone seemed to have exited the stage except for him, Kirk and Uhura.

"Why, just go with it doctor!" Uhura said happily. The curtain opened.

The lights blinded the crew. Kirk felt truly nervous about having to sing, but the music was playing, and the audience was full. Literally not a single seat was empty. 

"Sulu!" he called out, loud and clear, right on time. "Full speed ahead, warp factor nine!" he sang, albeit a bit awkwardly. 

"Yes, Captain!" his crew called out. The audience clapped wildly.  _They're really very excited about this. And the President of the United States is here. Why is this such a big deal?_ The crew barely knew the song they were trying to sing, but they muddled through it. Uhura was the only one who seemed to have a command of the song, and her voice ran clear through the mike. Chekov was the real problem. He was off beat, and clearly tone-deaf. Spock was the surprise, because the song, clearly written for bass voice, was far out of his vocal range. He raised it about three octaves, and proceeded with ease. At the end of the number, which they could tell had been... subpar, the minor characters guided them to the transporter pad. The lights flashed above them, and when their vision cleared, they saw the walls of the transport room, and Yeoman Janice Rand standing at the controls.

"Yeoman!" Kirk cried out. "How did we get back here?" 

Janice smiled. "Well, it's easy, me being a motherfucking sorcerer."

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cards used: 
> 
> _________ The Musical!  
> Count Chocula  
> Barack Obama  
> Friends with benefits  
> Puberty  
> A monkey smoking a cigar  
> Being a motherfucking sorcerer


End file.
